it was only a matter of
minutes--possibly seconds--before the crumbling bank above the
stream gave way.

He was close to the hut now, though still he assured himself that
the place was empty. The roar of the water was deafening, seeming
to numb the senses. He never knew afterwards whether a light
suddenly kindled as he drew near behind the canvas that screened
the hut-window, or if it had been there all along and the leaping
elusive lightning had blinded him to it. But the light was there
before him as he reached the place, and in a moment the knowledge
flashed upon him beyond all questioning that he had not come upon a
vain quest.

He knew also with that menacing roar below him and the streaming
rain around that there was not a moment to be lost. He swung
himself from Diamond's back and secured the bridle to a projecting
piece of wood at the back of the hut. Then, floundering and
slipping at every step, he made his way round to the door.

He groped for some seconds before he found it. It was closed and
he knew that there was no handle on the outside. He battered upon
it with his fist, shouting Guy's name.

There came no answer to his summons, but the sound of the water
seemed to swell in volume, filling the night. It drove him to a
fierce impatience. If he had not seen the light he would scarcely
have taken the risk. None but a fool would have remained in such a
death-trap. But the presence of the light forced him on. He could
not leave without satisfying himself. He set his shoulder against
the closed door and flung the full weight of his body into one
stupendous effort to force an entrance.

The wood cracked and splintered with the shock. He felt himself
pitching forward and grabbed at the post to save himself. The door
swung back upon its hinges, and he burst into the hut headlong.

The flame of a candle glimmered in his eyes, momentarily dazzling
him. Then he heard a cry. A figure sprang towards him--a woman's
figure with outstretched arms waving him back! Was he dreaming?
Was he mad? It was Sylvia's face, white and agonized, that
confronted him--Sylvia's voice, but so strained that he hardly
recognized it, broken and beseeching, imploring him for mercy.

"Oh, Burke--for God's sake--don't kill him! Don't kill him! I
will kill myself--I swear--if you do."

He caught the outflung hands, gripping them hard, assuring himself
that this thing was no illusion. He looked into her eyes of wi